Rosemary Beach: When I'm Gone Part 17

"Do you need me to drop it off?" I asked, trying to figure out what he was asking me.

"Yep. Only you can drop off you. Happy birthday, Reese. You look amazing. Now, go follow that path," he said with a wink, then climbed back into his car and drove off. I stood there looking at the path and back to where Jimmy had left.

It was then that it starting sinking in. Jimmy had dropped me off. Me. I turned and headed down the wooden path. Halfway down, I couldn't take it anymore, so I started to run. I knew who was going to be at the end of this path. I knew who he'd dropped me off to. And I wanted to get there.

Once I broke free out of the palm-lined walkway, I saw him.

He was wearing a white b.u.t.ton-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of khaki shorts. He stood inside a white tent illuminated by candlelight, with a three-tiered birthday cake beside him. It was a pretty pale pink and sparkled under the dim lights. Silver balloons filled the tent.

"Happy birthday, Reese," Mase said, smiling.

I let out a startled laugh, then burst into tears and ran for him.

He met me halfway, picked me up in his arms, and buried his face in my neck. "Surprise."

I leaned back and kissed him hard. I didn't know how else to express the emotion that was barreling through me. It was so overwhelming, I felt like I might combust from happiness. He'd done this all for me. A cake and balloons. And most importantly, him.

"How did you know it was my birthday?" I asked, even though the answer was obvious: Jimmy. I had thought about telling Mase but worried he'd think I was asking him to come back again. I didn't want that, so I'd just kept it to myself.

"You should have been the one to tell me, not Jimmy. I never want to miss your birthday. Ever."

I wiped the tears from my face and beamed up at this wonderful man who for some reason wanted to be with me. "You and your words," I said, then kissed him again.

His big, strong hands wrapped around my waist and held me there as we tasted and fed off each other. Having him here with me was the best birthday gift ever. Even without a cake and balloons. He was perfect.

"Come on, you have to blow out the candles, and then I get to feed you cake," he murmured against my lips.

"That's a lot of cake for just us," I said, not even trying to pretend I didn't love that he got me a ginormous cake.

He chuckled. "We'll eat our fill, and you can take some home, and then we can send the leftovers to friends."

I liked that idea. "I may eat too much," I said, looking at the creamy icing and already licking my lips. I would have to walk for days nonstop to burn off these calories.

Mase winked at me. "Good. I like the idea of that hot a.s.s jiggling a little more."

I really needed to fan myself.

He stuck a candle into the top tier and shrugged. "I was going to get twenty-three candles, but Harlow pointed out that the breeze out here was too much. I'd never get them to stay lit. So I went with the one."

He struck a match and hovered over the candle to protect it as he lit it.

"Make a wish, baby."

I couldn't think of anything I didn't have right now . . . except for one thing. But I knew wishes didn't take away the past. They couldn't change what had been done. So instead, I said a small thank you for what I'd been given and blew out the candle.

Mase began slicing a very large piece of cake and took a fork and looked up at me. "Come sit with me." He nodded to the white chaise longue that sat in the corner overlooking the gulf.

He sat down and opened his arms for me to sink into. I was half on top of him when his arms wrapped around me.

"That piece is too big," I said, eyeing the red filling.

"We're sharing," he informed me. "Open up."

I did as he said, and Mase slid the bite into my mouth. The sweet cream of the icing and the raspberry filling were delicious. "Mmm," I said approvingly.

"I like watching you eat. And feeding you," Mase said, as he scooped up another piece of the cake. He started moving it to my mouth, but I shook my head.

"Your piece," I informed him.

"Watching your tongue dart out to lick your lips and listening to you moan is so much better than me eating this cake," he said, and he rubbed some of the icing on my mouth.

I opened my mouth, trying not to laugh as he slipped in another bite.

"Yeah, there comes that tongue," he said, sounding completely fascinated with watching me eat my cake.

I finished chewing and swallowed, then shook my head again. "I need a break in between bites," I told him, laughing while he held another piece up to my face.

"I like your boots," he said, instead of arguing with me. "I want to see you in nothing but those boots."

My purchase had been well worth the cost.

"Please eat more for me. It's so f.u.c.king s.e.xy," he begged, running his nose up my neck.

Giggling, I turned and looked at him. "How is me eating s.e.xy?"

Mase smirked, ran a hand down my back, and squeezed my a.s.s. "For several reasons."

"You take a bite," I said, picking up the fork and holding it to his mouth.

He ate obediently, and I kissed the icing off his lips.

"I can see the advantage of me eating it, too, now," he said when I pulled back.

Smiling, I leaned back against his chest and enjoyed the view of the crashing waves in front of me. My legs tangled with his, and he continued to feed me. I let him.

Because I loved this man.

Mase.

Reese had given up on the piece of cake, and I'd finally put it down. I had to admit, just seeing her eat it satisfied me, knowing it was a birthday cake that I'd picked out and given to her.

I shifted so she could settle between my legs. I pulled her back against me before giving her the first present.

"Happy birthday," I said, picking up the largest box sitting beside me.

She gasped as she took the box. She glanced back at me before looking at the box again. "You got me a present?" she asked, amazed. "I mean, I thought you were my present, but this . . ."

Smiling, I kissed her temple. "No, this is your party, and I'm your only guest, because I'm selfish and wanted you all to myself. And this is your first present."

"My first?" she asked, and I nodded.

Then she surprised me. She tore into that gift like she was five years old. Watching her open it was more exciting than feeding her cake, and that had been pretty d.a.m.n exciting.

When she had the lid off the box, she pulled out the baby-blue Michael Kors purse I'd had Blaire help me pick out.

"There's a matching wallet in there, too."

She touched it reverently as if it were made of fine gold instead of leather. "This is expensive, isn't it?"

Not really. It could have been worse. But I'd told Blaire to be practical. Reese needed an everyday purse, not something she would be too nervous to carry.

"It's a nice purse for you to use instead of the backpack," I explained.

She grinned and put it back into the box, then turned to me and kissed me softly on the lips. "Thank you. That's the nicest gift I've ever gotten."

This wasn't over. I reached down and picked up the next present.

"There's more? I thought you were kidding."

"You better believe it."

Again, she tore into it like a little kid, and I found myself wishing I had videotaped this to watch over and over.

She opened the box to find three sets of French silk pajamas. She picked up one of the shorts and held it up and then touched it to her face. Laying it down, she reached for a camisole. The pale pink one with the white lace trim. "These feel so soft," she said in awe.

They should. They were the best.

"I like the idea of you in my T-shirt. But I also know you like your shorts and tank top because they're soft. So I got you some other soft things to sleep in. Because when you're with me, you won't need my T-shirt to wrap around you."

She laid it down in the expensive wrapping and let out a happy sigh. "Those are going to spoil me on pajamas for life."

That was OK. I'd keep her in expensive French silk if she wanted it, for as long as she wanted it.

Again, she kissed me and whispered a thank you against my lips.

I reached for the third box. This one was the smallest. And it was more for me than for her.

"The last one," I told her, as I handed her the rectangular box.

She opened it more carefully, as if she was afraid she would lose whatever was inside.

Inside was a single key nestled in velvet.

"It's the key to my house. When you're ready, you can move in anytime you want."

She picked it up and held it in her hand for several moments and didn't say anything. Finally, she lifted her eyes to meet mine. "One day, when you know all of me, you can give this back to me. But right now, you don't know it all. I can't take this."

She thought her dark past would change how I felt. Nothing she could tell me would change that. I loved her.

But I wouldn't use those words to convince her. She would have to decide this in her own time. I wasn't forcing her. I wanted her in my bed, in my house. I wanted it to be our house. But not until she was ready for that. Not until she wanted me.

Wanted a forever.

Reese.

He was acting like me not taking the key wasn't a big deal. But it felt like it. My chest hadn't stopped hurting since I'd given it back to him. But Mase never mentioned it again or acted upset.

He'd held my hand, and we'd walked down the beach. He had persuaded me to eat a few more bites of the cake, and then we had cuddled in the chaise longue and watched the moonlight on the water.

The only thing that had been wrong was that he didn't kiss me again. He didn't look at me with those hooded eyes full of need. It was as if he was holding me at arm's length while he was right there with me. Before, he had been flirty and playful.

After the key, that all changed. He changed.

Once we got back to the apartment, he told me to go ahead and use the bathroom first. He'd get ready for bed after me. He hadn't been overcome with desire for me or pulled me into his arms once we were in the privacy of my apartment. He had been kind and polite, but that was it. Nothing more.

I slipped on one of the new pajama sets he'd given me. This one was white with silver piping. I also thought it was the s.e.xiest. Right now, I wanted to see the spark there and know that I hadn't lost him when I didn't take his key.

Why hadn't I? Taking it didn't mean I was using it. He hadn't given it to me thinking I was going to move in the minute I accepted it. He'd said as much. It had been his way of letting me know the offer was there to be accepted when I was ready.

I needed to talk to him.

I had handled this wrong.

I opened the bathroom door and walked to the bedroom.

"No, Cordelia. I'm not there. I'm out of town. I'll be back Sunday, probably. Maybe sooner. Not sure."

I hovered outside the door. Who was Cordelia? My stomach twisted, and my heart sank at hearing him say he might be home sooner. I had really messed up.

"Not my fault if you left them. And no, you can't get into my house with me gone. I left it locked up . . . Cord, come on. Stop playing this game with me. Don't be this way."

He was annoyed. And he called her Cord.

"Like I said, I'll be home Sunday," he snapped, then stuck his phone into his pocket with a sigh.

I stepped back from the door and took several calming breaths. That meant nothing. Cordelia could be someone he worked with or was related to. Or she could just be a friend.